Ocean Eyes
by intoxicating-shadows-of-the-evergreen
Summary: There is a new girl, a 6th year, in Slytherin, and before he knows it, Draco finds himself falling in love with her. In love with her ocean eyes... But before long, her life is slipping away from her, and Draco is confused, upset, and angry.


Ocean Eyes  
Title: Ocean Eyes  
Category: Romance  
Sub Category: Drama  
Keywords: sex ocean eyes draco romance  
Rating: R  
Summary: There is a new girl, a 6th year, in Slytherin, and before he  
knows it, Draco finds himself falling in love with her. In love with  
her ocean eyes... But before long, her life is slipping away from her, and Draco is  
confused, upset, and angry.

DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created  
and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited  
to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner  
Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark  
infringement is intended.

STANDARD DISCLAIMER: This story is based on  
characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various  
publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic  
Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being  
made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
  
So in other words, DREADFULLY, I dont own Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy,  
or Hogwarts. I only have created the character, Cherrelle.

Author notes: I hope you enjoy it. Im rather crap at writing stories,  
but I took a shot at it. Please R/R for me! Thanks!  
  
It was a dreary Saturday as Draco Malfoy boarded the Hogwarts Express, white-blonde hair mussled, a neutral bed-head, his grey eyes bleary and tired. He hadn't taken a shower the earlier night, and felt as if he was poisoned, his silky robes against his dirty skin. He looked out the window and looked at his father, the trademark silver blonde hair falling in elegant wisps about his face, he gave Draco a curt nod. Draco nodded back. A Malfoy never waved, showed any meaning of affection, expression. It wasn't, as Lucius said, The Malfoy Tradition. Malfoy's stayed strict to their rules and well-being, they were quiet, sly, cunning, and elegant. Nobody suspects a Malfoy, well.. usually.  
  
Draco sighed heavily, slumping into the nearest compartment, a bit startled to find a girl sitting there. This was, anyways, his compartment, and no one else except Crabbe and Goyle sat in here with Draco.  
  
"What the bloody hell are you doing in my compartment?" he spat, throwing her a furious look. And as the royal Malfoy gave her this furious glance, he took the chance to scan her.  
  
She was different. And that was being nice, to Draco's standards. She had skin the hue of a newly sunkissed tan from somewhere exotic, and her hair was finely braided, spilling in neat, tiny waves down her shoulders. Her slender legs were crossed, to hold the large book in which she was reading. He couldn't see the colour of her eyes, but to him, she was rather appealing. Rather.. bookish, gangly, but she has curves... he noted. His grey eyes fixated on her Slytherin crest on her robes, and the green-and-black tie she wore about the collar of her blouse..... You know what? She was familiar...  
  
As he questioned her, she looked up.  
  
Her eyes were brown. A nice brown, for a brown, that is.  
  
"Who has pissed in your cornflakes, this morning, Draco? Your peevish little house-elves, I'm supposing?" she had a teasing grin and an arched brow, snapping her book shut and uncrossing her legs, she leant forwards. She brushed her finger beneath his chin, tilting his head up.  
  
"Oh, you are cute. I would of thought so..." she murmured.  
  
"Dont - touch - me," he snapped, pulling away quickly. He sneered at her, but she could see the glint of curiousity in his goregeous grey gaze. "Who are you, anyways? How do you know my name? Are you a first year? How are you sorted already?"  
  
She paused. "I'm Cherrelle, but please, call me Cherrie. I know your name because I have a tight aqquaintance with your father. Like you, I am a pureblood. I am not a first year, but to be enrolled in your year, the 6th. I am sorted, I visited Hogwarts early to risk humiliation. My father is the new Defense Against Dark Arts professor. Professor Campbell."  
  
Draco quirked a brow, registering the information slowly, but surely. "I see... I didn't figure you for a first year, anyways..." his eyes  
drifted from her eyes to her breasts.  
  
"Yes, well... if you can keep your goddamn nosy self outta my buisness, I'm sure I may pay attention to you more, Malfoy. I'd rather read now, if you didn't mind."  
  
"Right.. whatever you want, Miss-I-Am-So-Perfect!" he sneered.  
  
She grinned, flashing her toothy whites. "Oh, Im so close to perfect,its scary."  
  
An hour passed by, and so did the plump lady with the cart of treats. Cherrelle selectively chose a small couldron cake, and ate it just as carefully. Draco watched as her bites cut clean through the soft, chocolatey pastry, the way her tounge flicked out to rim her lips,  
getting rid of some crumbs.  
  
Crabbe and Goyle took their cue to amble in, loaded with Pumpkin Pastries, Chocolate Frogs, Cauldron Cakes and all sorts of fatty goods. Draco's eyes widened as Crabbe almost sat on the unsuspecting girl. She soon took notice, and scootched over. She finally looked up at the boys, her eyes bright, always accustoming that flirty glint that hinted her as trouble, trouble, trouble. She didn't even appear scared at the agahst sight of the Dumbass Dunces.  
  
"Hello, boys," she smiled, "I'm Cherrelle, Cherrie, if you like. I'm new this year, but I'll be in Slytherin.... I see you know Draco?"  
  
Draco turned his head, and he suddenly felt embarassed to have the oafs here.  
  
"Yeah.. thass Crabbe," he motioned to the obese one, "and scrawny little Goyle," he pointed to the scarecrow one, who shot her a hopeful smile.  
  
"Yeah... we know Draco... hes a real fetchin' guy... all the girls wan' shag him, they does!" Goyle chuckled, biting into a Pumpkin Pasty.  
  
"Every girl, huh? Well, I see we have something in common, Malfoy. We attract a sexual crowd and down know how to keep our hands to ourselves!" she laughed. It wasn't a forced sort of laugh, Draco noted. It was soft, tinkling... it was, oh bloody hell, it was nice.  
  
Draco gave a sly grin.  
  
"Yeah, except for bloody Potter. He has some girls crooning over his gawky-self and he pushes the opportunites he gets all away... him and his fancy on Granger Mudblood.."  
  
Cherrelle's eyes flashed, and she leaned forwards. "Tell me more, about Potter, and his... crew."  
  
Draco grinned, and sat back. Relaxed, he started off with the day he made Ron so furious he started chucking up slimy slugs. And Cherrelle, she was intruiged.  
  
The Great Hall was bustling with amazing excitement. As Cherrelle took a seat alone, some Slytherin boys got a look at her and scooted over, engaging in some conversation, releived to actually have a pretty girl in their house. It sure was a releif from looking at Pansy Parkinson's pug face.

Draco scanned the table, and frowned to see that Cherrelle had taken his usual crowd. He would have to settle this, wouldn't he? And as Cherrelle threw Blaise Zabini a forced giggle, he shoved a scrawny boy named Maragino to the side and sat beside Cherrelle.  
  
"Ohh, hiya Draco! You have a nice.. variety of friends!" she said, looking at him with those alluring eyes.  
  
For a bit, he got lost in her gaze, they were waves of a bottomless ocean. Ocean Eyes. He grinned. "Yeah, 'pose I do."  
  
He was about to launch into a story about how he shagged a Playwizard model that his father had brought for a party, but Dumbledore had called the Hall to attention, clearing his throat.  
  
"Welcome back, students, and teachers. I presume you've had an enjoyable, satisfactory holdiay from the school, and I am sure you have many stories to tell.  
  
But I will be sure to tell you that we have a new D.A.D.A. teacher.... Professor Campbell..." he started, and beamed at a muscular, black man, standing up in his silky black robes, addressing the Hall with a flash of toothy whites, a broad grin.

The Hall burst into applaud.  
  
As soon as that ceased, Dumbledore continued with the usual. No Forbbiden Forest, Corridor Wandering, Magic in the Hallways.. and such, until he came on a new subject.  
  
"We have also, accomodated a new student.. in Slytherin. She is the daughter of our newly accepted D.A.D.A professor, and will be staying here for the rest of her years. She used to belong to Drumstrang, but has come here to be with her father. Please give warm welcomes to Cherrelle Campbell."  
  
Cherrelle stood up, smoothly, and looked around the Hall, which yet again broke out in applaud across all the tables. She was sure to hear some cat-calls along some older Hogwarts Boys, and shes sure some of the.. different girls were eying her too. She gave everyne a sly, one sided grin, waving gently.  
  
Draco, sitting sideways, spied a strip of tanned midriff, and got goosebumps as he examined the faint trace of abs beneath her skin. He  
was startled as she sat down.  
  
"Looking at something?" Cherrelle inquired, quirking a brow at him.  
  
God, he was gorgeous. His blonde hair was windswept but still aqquired a dull sheen. She supposed it was going to be rather dull until it got its daily washing routine but nonetheless.. she grinned at him. His eyes were beautiful, too. Rimmed by kohl black lahes and pale skin, they stood out brilliantly. Her gaze fell apon his lips. They were pink, slightly curved upwards at the moment, sculpted and soft, by the looks. She'd have to kiss those sometime.  
  
"No, none of your buisness, Cherrelle. Do they.. er.. train you, at Drumstrang? Do you know Krum?"  
  
She threw him a quizzical look, with a hint of angst. "They do, yes. I did work out more than most of the females. And yes, I did know Krum. Lets say... I taught him a few things... and he taught me some in return. And let me tell you, the things I teach have nothing to do with Quidditch, Malfoy. Oh, and yes. ITS CHERRIE. Not Cherrelle, you nosy prat."  
  
She sucked back some pumpkin juice from her goblet, that had just appeared, for the feast had begun. Draco flashed her a serious look. "I am not a prat Cherrelle. And youshould just shut up and eat. I'm bloody starving."  
  
Cherrelle nodded in agreement and they both dug into their mashed potatoes, their stomachs grumbling in delight of being fed.  
  
Now, as Draco lay in his bed, and he remembered why Cherrelle was familiar....  
  
It was a family party, and he was down in their Dance Club. There was a variety of blaring lights, glowng sticks and glittering orbs levitating about the room.  
  
He had seen her.  
  
Cherrelle hung off the arm of his father, her body clad in a black minidress the hugged her body like a second skin. He could see her  
small, perfectly cupped breasts, taut stomach, her gangly yet curvy legs. She was in that hormonous, clutz stage of her teenage years. But, she had that mischevious, teasing look underneath her elegance. Her hair was in a long ponytail, ringlets of dark hair.  
  
His father seemed to like her, and more than a friendly glance was given to her as Lucius allowed her to move her hips steadily on her  
own, dancing sultry-like, the lights and music absorbing into her. Narcissa, Draco's Mother, seemed to be eyeing her and her usband, and dragged him away to their bedroom, possibly in her pursue to prove she could do much more than an alluring 15-year-old.  
  
Draco had neared her, mingling within the crowd. He spied her spine, her shoulders moved and sloped as she danced. He followed her flowing movements down to her ass, which was taking its part in grinding to the beat.  
  
His cool, slender hands grasping her waist suddenly, startled her. But she took it calmly, as she always did, and slowly slid into him, their bodies pressed tightly together as his hips grinded slowly against her ass. He was hardening as she pressed herself harder and longer against him, and she could feel it, his loose black pants painfully tight as he strained against the material.. if they were anywhere but here, he'd rape her mercilessly, shagging her hard and long, as Malfoy's should.  
  
But, if the lithe temptress was willing, it wasn't rape, was it?  
  
They danced the same way all through the 3 hours, pressed tightly together, bodies rolling together and fitting like a perfectly,  
new-found piece to a puzzle. Draco occasionally let his pale arms snake upwards, glowing eeriely blue and green shades as the elleptic lights flashed and blazed to the rythym of the music. His hands reached and cupped her breasts, running his thumbs over her nipples as their skin became lathered with sweat, their eyes clouded with lust. He even teased her more, if possbile, by dancing lithe, little kissed ligtly, like the scurry of a little mouse, over her neck, sucking at the spot beneath her ear, licking along her jawline.  
  
She had hickeys for weeks, to prove his mischevious behaviour.  
  
And all through it, they hadn't said a word. Their bodies spoke, translating their thoughts with pervy grabs at flesh and the light  
trail of tounges apon slightly hot, flushed, sweaty skin.And as he slumbered lightly, Draco fondled his painfully throbbing manhood, straining for release.  
  
He found that he exploded in his green silk pyjamas, imagining her breasts, bare and hard in his vision.  
  
Cherrelle awoke early, and seeing it was the weekend, she threw on some butt-hugging jeans and a plain, v-neck top. She didn't go all-out with her clothes, but could barely decide what to wear. She run around half-naked, picking up and dropping things as she went, undecided as she spied a colourful new item to wear on her body.  
  
Oh well, that was just Cherrelle. The same Cherrelle that danced to music in her Spiderman underwear for all the world to see, or rather, her girls dorm, getting a viligant and scared stare from Pansy. Laughing to herself, she applied her eyeline in a slight rush, creating a quite nice-looking messy effect, rigid around her brown eyes. She blinked. She hated her brown eyes. She took her wand to her temple and muttered an inchoerant curse, in which, turned her eyes a pale green.  
  
Aha, evil woman! She chuckled inwardly at this, leaving her messy braids to settle to frame her face. She put on some cover-up to cover the sprinkle of light brown freckles that dusted her cheeks a little, and she hated those. No wait, despised them.  
  
Checking is she looked aboslutely eatable, she walked out of the dorm quickly, tucking her notebook in her studded little black purse.  
  
Beneath the prissy prom-queen was the troubled, depressed poet. Like any girl, she wished, longed, for love. Never had she found it, and possibly, she never would. That is what she thought. Biting her lip as she walked to the front doors to outside of Hogwarts, into the bright sunlight, she remembered what her dad told her once.  
  
Men love you.  
  
What that meant, she never used to know, but now she does. It meant she was bred, pure and straight, to tempt, tease, and well, breed. It was what every woman in her fathers side was meant to do, and so she suppose she was supposed to be the same.  
  
When she was 14, she had let Lucius do many things to her. And as he cornered her in a steamy shower or placed his cold touch on her thighs as he thrust his prime manhood into her, she thought it was love.  
  
She thought it was love when Lucius moaned softly in her ears, her name. Cherrelle, Cherrelle, Cherrelle. And yet, she knew it was wrong, but she soon felt herself melting in the masculine arms that carried her to his bedroom that first night.  
  
His hair was falling like a blonde, silky mane around his face, his colder grey eyes that never seemed to melt, and his milky, pale skin.  
  
She wanted to reach out and hold his face to her chest as he fucked her apon the silky bedsheets on which he slept. She wanted to make the ice in his eyes melt, to make his skin to match her warmth. But she  
couldn't.  
  
The wife knew after a while, and Lucius stopped giving her what she needed, and she was furious.  
  
That was how she became the temptress she is now.  
  
Looking around for someone to love her.  
  
To hold her.  
  
She wanted to melt the ice in somebody's eyes.  
  
Then, there was Draco... they danced for hours together, that one night, right after his father had roughly screwed her in their royal  
bathroom. They barely could do things now, so all they got was little quickies.

But Draco...... so much like his father, and so much unlike him at the same time. His cold grey eyes melted at the edges when he looked at something he loved, truly. Like his mother, or his broom. His voice had lost the sharp edge and grew soft, his touches gentle.  
  
She wanted him.  
  
And as he encased her from behind with those arms, she could feel his breath quickening against the skin of her neck.  
  
His touch made her shiver, made her tingle.  
  
She could have an orgasm just from the friction they had caused that night, just from the touch of his hands, the wet touch of his tounge, trailing on her sweaty, hot skin.  
  
Between her legs, she felt sensations again.  
  
She would get Draco, sooner or later.  
  
She hoped...  
  
Reclining underneath a nearby elm, she drew out her quill and parchment, suckling at a sweet flower stem while she thought.  
  
And as if she clicked a light on in her head, her hand flew across the parchment, her heart speaking through the movements of her hand.  
  
_To be tucked away,  
  
Safe in the curve of your body,  
  
tangled in the soft sheets,  
  
lips are soft,  
  
your touches are caressing,  
  
teasing me,  
  
making me moan,  
  
into the darkness of the night,  
  
As we make love.  
  
Lips meet,  
  
tounges twisting in a passionate kiss,  
  
You rock me up and down,  
  
slowly, lovingly,  
  
a finger teases up my spine,  
  
making me gasp,  
  
at how soft...  
  
how delicate you touch me.  
  
Another hand takes to my breasts,  
  
feels the texture,  
  
rolls up and over,  
  
pressing me closer,  
_

_together,  
  
As one.  
_  
She smiled at it, and hugged it to her chest. A soft hum escaped her lips, and she felt happy again.  
  
But the cold voice, the sharp edge, it scared her.  
  
"What are you doing? Making friends with the parchment...?"  
  
She wasn't thinking, and shut her eyes tight. She had recently been thinking and her mind was fooling her... She went rigid.  
  
"Lucius?!" she gasped, but turned her head. She opened her eyes, and she saw Draco's startled look. "Oh, you."  
  
Draco nodded, then sat beside her. His frown was long, pulling his lips into a pout. He was a sexy little pouter.  
  
She laughed. Draco shivered. There it was, that soft, bell-tinkling laugh. Ohh it got to him. He turned to her, from teh parchment, to her eyes. "Why are they green?"  
  
"What - my eyes?" she asked.  
  
"No, your titties." he said, sarcastically, rolling his grey eyes.  
  
"Ohh. My eyes... aren't they nice?" she inquired, smiling gently.  
  
Draco smiled, faintly. He wanted to suddenly reach out, trace her lips, that pretty smile. But then - her eyes... no, they were pale, green, cold. They were so much like his fathers. It scared him shitless. "They're horrible. Change them back... Brown.. " he muttered, but loud enough so she could hear.  
  
He watched as she did the counter-curse. Suddenly, Draco was lost in the bottomless ocean of brown.  
  
"Ocean Eyes," he murmured, and chuckled.  
  
Cherrelle looked confused. "What the fuck?" she laughed, looking at him. If she was correct, Draco was being nice.  
  
She resisted the urge to straddle his lap and kiss him all over, soft and nice, to melt his icy eyes. Right now they faced her, stone cold,  
clearly in them was her reflection.  
  
"Ocean eyes. You're eyes... they're, strange. Bloody odd, thats what."  
  
Ahh, Draco was trying to hide his growing affection for the girl, and he replaced his tone with a coldness that was bitter enough to turn the flowers brittle and old and the lake before them covered in ice. Cherrelle trembled.  
  
"You speak so harshly, Draco. It scares me, it reminds me of your father."  
  
"What about my father? I know you two are close" he spat.  
  
"What? Umm.. no.." she blushed furiously, her voice slurred, lost.  
  
"Yeah, you two are great fuck buddies. You cant help but moan so bloody loud, you stupid slut." Immidiately he snapped back. He wished he hadn't said that. He used to jack off on those nights, where he could watch through the crack of his fathers bedroom.  
  
"Fuck you," she whispered, not even looking up. "Fuck - you ."  
  
That cut him deep. She talked short, her words like a hot knife slicing quickly through butter.  
  
And as soon as she was there, she was gone, to the castle.  
  
Draco felt like he'd been slapped across the face so hard he'd cry.  
  
He clutched at his chest.  
  
He had heartburn.  
  
"Bloody greasy fries yesterday..." but really, Draco felt it was more than greasy deepfried fries served for dinner.  
  
Gently, he reached for the parchment she dropped, and read the poem.  
  
He read it over 5 more times, letting the words sink in, settle and stay locked and hidden in the depth of his cloaked heart.  
  
And as he folded the poem up and let it drift atop of the lake, he sighed. His grey eyes, if seen, had lost their sharp, icy look. The ice  
had melted, and Draco was feeling curious, furious, and trapped. He was starting to like this strange girl.  
  
Her heart had ripped apart, torn by Draco's harsh words. IM NOT A SLUT! she found herself saying in her mind. But, in a way, she was. A decent one, if anything. Anytime she thought of Draco, her heart skipped a beat, and she felt very clammy and sweaty, fidgety, at times too. Sometimes she would catch her gaze, and she felt as she was being thrown off a cliff, her heart in her throat, her insides trembling. Loving someone, and wishing to be loved back, was just something that had acheived by two people. Not every love story has a happy ending, or in this case, a happy starting. It took a minute to like someone, an hour to have a crush on them, and a day to fall in love with them. But it took years to let them go, to forget them. Cherrelle was suffering a severe case of lovesick.  
  
It was a friday, and Cherrelle just ambled out of her father's D.A.D.A. class, and tested them on defeating their deepest fears from a boggart.  
  
When it was Cherrelle's turn, the boggart formed into the earth. Darth and sunken, bare, with no love tending to the flowers and grass and water that usually surrounded the globe. It was empty, lonely.  
  
For a while, she stared at it, her thoughts focused on Draco, and she felt as though her heart sprung another leak.  
  
"RIDDIKULUS!" she yelled at it.  
  
The class burst out laughing.  
  
The boggart had changed into Malfoy, with an enormous, round head.  
  
And as Cherrelle made her way back to her seat, she caught Draco's eye. He looked sad, angry, and confused. So to supple the feelings, he sneered at her. "Filthy slut..." he whispered. Cherrelle blinked, but looked away. Yet again, he had cut her insides open, her heart straining to burst and bleed.  
  
Her father, also looked disappointed.  
  
She felt rather distraught.  
  
And now, as she made her way back to the Common Room, her head was lowered, her braided hair swinging forwards to shroud her sad features, and her eyes were glazed over, wet, stuggling to become focused on the cobblestone corridor floors.  
  
"FUCK!" she heard someone say, as she bumped into someone. Startled, she looked up.  
  
Potter. His hair was messed up, his bright green eyes were shocked, yet vivid. He flushed.  
  
"Language, language, Potter..." she mused. Ah, just what she needed to mend a broken heart. A little play toy to fool around with until she no longer felt so low. She gave him direct eye contact, her lashes fluttering slightly, as she cooed at him. "You are very handsome  
though, hun. I suppose some credit should be awarded to you for that...." she brushed her hand against his.  
  
Harry flushed, stammering. His hands seemed to sweat themselves at her touch. She was too much for him, he thought. Memory overload, sense overload... wow... just... overload.  
  
"Er... sorry... Cherrelle, right? I'm ... well... "  
  
"Harry Potter?"  
  
"Umm.. yeah, thats it..." he gave her a sheepish grin.  
  
Cherrelle stepped up, closer to him. She examined his flushed, soft skin, and her eyes focused on his lips. They were nice. Just nice. She had to kiss them, she needed some release.  
  
"How about we go hang out in the Room of Requirement, hmm?" she smirked, snatching his hand, and leading him down the hall.  
  
They arrived at the Room quickly, and she opened it quickly, and it turned out to be a roomy closet, less space, more friction.  
  
She giggled, pressing herself quickly onto him, kissing some exposed skin of his neck. He was contaigous, and she wanted to catch just what he had.  
  
"Er... Cherrelle.. um..." Harry gasped, feeling his trousers tighten as he grew hard, "I haven't done this before... I.."  
  
"Just let me lead the way, ok?" she looked up at him. He looked doubtful. So she poured it on thick, and made a soft pouty look on her  
lips.  
  
How could I resist? Harry thought, and shrugged, throwing her a shy grin. "Okay.."  
  
Cherrelle grinned, but mentally noted to take it at a slow pace, at ease for fidgety Potter.  
  
Her lips were rushed, crazy little motions in the nook of his neck and collarbone, but she didnt take time to pour false love into those  
kisses. As she slid her hands beneath his shirt to feel around at his slender stomach, she looked directly at those nice lips and placed a  
kiss on them. Harry was startled, but started to lean into it, catching on and opening his mouth so her tounge could snake in, gently rolling against his own.  
  
Her hips were pressed hard against him, and she was hot and flushed, her clothes slightly sticky on her skin.  
  
Harry let out a surprised gasp as her cool fingers slid very quickly beneath his boxers and trousers and snatched at his manhood, fondling it gently before pulling down his clothing. Harry blushed, as Cherrelle eyed his hard-on.  
  
It was average, and yet, it was very nice. Hard and thick, erect from all of her teasing notions.  
  
"Beautiful.." she whispered to him.  
  
Snatching his hands, she slid them beneath her shirt and let them grasp her breasts with guidance. Harry suddenly took control with that and carressed them carefully, absolutely shocked and proud that he was actually touching breasts. He shot her a more courageous, confident grin. She smiled faintly in return. She only wanted him inside of her for release. No lovey-dovey shit. Thats not what she needed.  
  
Harry, noting that he wanted to be shagged now or never, slid his hands beneath her skirt and hurridly yanked down her thong, hoisting her up so her legs found their way to lock around his torso, and without hesitation, he thrust, and was inside of her.  
  
Cherrelle locked her hands around his neck and bounced herself downwards apon his manhood, which was awkwardly thrusting into her. Harry was obviously trying to find his rythym. Cherrelle stopped moving, until her grinned and successfully found his rythtym, thrusting hard and slow, hard and slow, hard and slow.  
  
Her nails dug into his back as he pressed her harder against the wall.  
  
"Cmon, bitch, gimme some pain!" she gasped, digging her nails deeper. She was releasing her anger unto him, her lust and sorrow.  
  
Harry shifted, and thrust into her harder, no longer worrying about hurting her. Although, he was quite afraid to actually cause her pain, and made a very dog-like growl as she punctured his back with her nails. All he wanted was to fucking shag her and cum, for godsakes. Not a friggen torture chamber or bondage fuck.  
  
Cherrelle frowned angrily at him, and reached her head forwards as she felt him stiffen inside of her, his pent-up liquids ready to release. And as he ejaculated into her, she bit him tenderly, at first, on the flesh of his neck, then harder, her teeth puncturing to cause blood.  
  
"What - the - fuck?!!" Harry gasped, tired out, he dropped her. She fell with a gentle thud on the ground, and glared at him,  
mischeviously. Her lips beigned a evil grin, and she examined her nails before she hoisted up her thong.  
  
"I like pain. Sorry if I hurt you... I really am..." she feigned a fake little expression that was saved for sadness, and forgiveness.  
  
"Its okay, it was good. Could we do this again sometime?" Harry asked coyly, buttoning his trousers.  
  
He looked at her, as she muttered "Sourgify" to clean up their mess and sort herself out. "Maybe, Potter. Just keep this our little secret,  
okay?" She kissed his cheek, and was off.  
  
The dance club in Hogsmeade was filled with vibrant flashing colours out of nowhere, charmed to make everything white or pale, glow. Hogwarts students came here to settle on Friday nights and dance their energy away, mingled in sweaty groups of swaying, rocking, bumping, grinding bodies.  
  
Cherrelle had arrived a little while ago, her ponytail cascading in some ringlets. She was clad in a miniskirt with fishnet tights, black  
pumps on her feet and a skimpy little black tank top. She looked good, and she knew it. That was the way she was, and everyone was aware of her pompous pride.  
  
She sat in a dark corner, sipping a Magical Melody - a black substance that tasted oddly like chocolate, with creamy vanilla Liquor mxed into it. She cupped the glass, swirling the drink around inside, scenting the sweel smell of the impure substance, before tilting it up to her glossy pink lips and downing it all. All of it, in one shot.  
  
Licking her lips greedily, she cracked her knuckles, resisting temptaion to get herself straight drunk and walk back to Hogwarts all  
tipsy and sick. But, she followed her rules. Drowning myself in sorrow leads to no tommorow. But... she was thinking. What if she didnt want to wake up the next day? See the sunshine? What if she didn't want to be the person she was? She bit her lower lip. She would die soon, she knew it. But it was a secret. She sometimes even kept it a secret to herself. She didn't want to die so young....  
  
Taking out her parchment, she blocked out the blaring music for a few moments to scribble out her feelings apon the paper. Which always helped.  
  
_I know you dont love me anymore  
  
as soon as you fell in love with me  
  
you stumbled and tripped  
  
until you could stand again.  
  
I wish you loved me  
  
I wish you would take the cool blade of a knife  
  
off the bedside table  
  
as you made false love to me  
  
and stab me softly  
  
my moans dripping away  
  
bloody tears replacing them  
  
as you ended my pain.  
  
I want you to hold me as I bleed  
_

_my heartbeat fading  
  
as i look apon the lips I have kissed  
  
look into the eyes I lost myself so easily in  
  
but your eyes are confused  
  
they are cold  
  
I wish they would melt  
  
I wish they would love me again.  
  
Bury me beneath  
  
some flower-dotted feild  
  
of red, blues, whites, and yellows  
  
lost in the seas of grass  
  
press the disturbed earth back over me  
  
softly, gently  
  
and lay next to my grave.  
_

_Look up at the sky  
  
and amongst the clouds  
  
you will see the eyes  
  
that you once loved  
  
and maybe  
  
just maybe  
  
you would fall back in love with me again.  
  
_Sitting back, Cherrelle admired her work, running her fingers over it gently.  
  
"Having an orgasmic moment with your paper again?" a familiar voice cooed. The voice was like calming waves in her ears, that splashed up her spine, tingling her skin, dousing her in the cold liquid. Her heart skipped a beat.  
  
Draco.  
  
Tucking the parchment away, she shot him a lazy grin. Not replying, she sighed, turning to gaze at Potter, with a curly redhead. They were into the music, Harry carefully pressing his hips into hers as their exposed skin touched. He now aqquired a new confidence. Cherrelle smiled, remembering the closet. Ever since she fucked him, Harry was on top of the world, without drugs.  
  
"You fucked Potter, didn't you?" the voice drawled again. He had made himself a seat beside her, an arm swinging silently to the beat of the music. Cherrelle turned and observed him again. He had on some loose black pants, and a loose fitting, button up shirt. His hair was falling gracefully into his eyes, and as she saw the lights flash, she grinned at the new aqquired sheen in the silvery blonde hair. It had finally received its shower. She paused at his eyes. They were so cold, so much like his father's, and she shivered. She looked away.  
  
"So what if I fucked Potter?" she replied, softly. She was still eying him, Harry was running his tounge down the redhead's chest, his hands groping her.  
  
Draco made a little snort. A cute snort, Cherrelle decided, grinning to herself. "Potter has now shagged all of his fan club. You gave him that confidence. I also see the way he looks at you... as if he's picturing you naked, as if..." he traile off. Cherrelle could see the rage, the jealousy that was now embedded in his icy eyes.  
  
"You aren't jealous, are you? I mean, not too jealous to dance with me?"  
  
Draco looked at her. He did not smile, nor show emotion. He couldn't reveal just how eager and happy he was that she had asked. So, he nodded.  
  
But unlike himself, he was the one who instantly grabbed her hand and dragged her to the dance floor, where he brought her to a darker corner. He pressed himself hard against her as the music hieghtened, to a new hip-hop beat, pumping and vibrating through Cherrelle's body, which started to snake and roll up against him. He was being rather forceful, and greedy, somehow knowing that Harry would be looking over sometime. But it wasn't just that. Cherrelle was his, and he wanted no one to love her or like her more than he did. Then he would go ballistic.  
  
Draco pressed his pelvis tightly against her body, his hands lowering and rubbing her lower back, some fingers inching beneath her skirt to snatch gently at her thong straps. His eyes went from her ocean eyes, to her mouth, which was slightly agape, her pink tounge sliding outwards to lick her upper lip. God, she was beautiful. Looking lower, he spied that there was no bra beneath the skimpy top, and her breasts bounced gently against his chest as she grinded herself closer to him, sliding a leg between his so she could straddle one of his thighs, and settle her head near his neck.  
  
Gently, she began to suck gently at the flesh of his neck, nibbling just a bit, for a playful quirk. She shivered from head to toe, feeling  
a power over him as he actually groaned in lustrous pleasure, and his grip snatched firmly at her top, banging his hips against her hard,  
really hard. He felt like he could really fuck her right here, grinning into her beautiful brwon eyes that reflected the lights in the club,  
his fingers, his hands, touching, feeling her skin.

He ran his hand up her thigh, enjoying the effect it took when some of her smooth flesh was exposed through the diamonds of the fishnet tights. Sliding them up higher, his hand flattened out so his palms cupped one of her ass cheeks, grabbing gently as they rolled together, their bodies starting to get hot and sticky.  
  
Cherrelle raised her head, and looked at Draco's eyes. They reflected her, and were glazed over with a fresh look of lust. Not love. Yet  
again, she could see the coldness in his eyes.  
  
She wanted to releive his shrouded self, and she raised her hand, as they rocked backwards, forwards, mashing and grinding their hips and bodies together, lost in the crazy beat of the music.  
  
She pressed her lips hungrily against his, seeking his tounge as she ran her own across his bottom lip. He leant deeply into the kiss, his  
hands grasping her ass tightly as she opened her lips and he slid his tounge into her warm mouth.  
  
And as they kissed, dancing dirtily in the dimmed corner, Cherrelle felt it. Her heart skipped several beats, and as his lips tenderly  
rubbed against hers, she knew he loved her. She knew by the way he slowed their sexy, fucking beat, his hips now gently sliding and  
swaying with hers, his hands sliding from her ass and embracing her around her lower back.  
  
As she pulled away, for breath, she looked at him, very quickly. His eyes had flashed a soft, gentle gray for several seconds, before they hardened into ice.  
  
He eyed her, her face flushed and red, odd on her tanned skin. He brushed away some make-up, and spied a gentle sprinkle of freckles  
dusted on her cheeks. He laughed, really soft-like, his grip loosening on her slowly, as if he never wanted to let her go, he was afraid she'd drift away, like a helium balloon.  
  
"Want to start heading back to Hogwarts? Early?" Draco asked.  
  
Cherrelle caught what he was suggesting to her. She wanted to make love to him. "I do."  
  
Grasping his hand, their fingers interlaced and they strode out of the club, into the cool night.Draco gently lay Cherrelle apon his silky green sheets, lay perfectly made apon his four poster bed. He snappily drew the curtains around the bed, conveniencing them privacy, although everyone was still away partying.  
  
For moments, they lay there, breathing heavily, numb from the cool air outside. Cherrelle pressed onto him, her eyes clouded with a sexual hunger, and Draco could sense the tension. He really wanted to fuck her brains out, right here, right now, but he also wanted to be gentle with this beautiful creature. He wanted to love her.  
  
"Cherrelle..." he started.  
  
She roused from her gentle slumber, blinking at him. "Yes?" her voice was soft, and she touched his face. "What is it?"  
  
"I love your eyes..." he murmured, kissing her cheeks, beneath each brown eye, her lashes tickling his own as he did so. "No.. I love your skin..." he touched her, softly. "It reminds me of the iced cappuchino's I'd drink on a hot summer day. I also love your freckles.  
Don't hide them. They give you an innocence that nobody has ever seen. I...." he seemed stuck on this one, choking on his words, the words that never left his mouth. Never. Not even to his own parents. "I love you."  
  
Cherrelle grasped this with her mind, locking those words into the vault of her heart. And as if this was a password to heal her wounds, the pain stopped. She reached out, and made him look at her straight in his eyes. They were still frozen, yet they carried a look of hope. Hope that she would return the favour. Tell him she loved him. Oh please, please, love me... he thought, his mind racing, heart thumping wildly.  
  
"I love you too, Draco." and she meant it. She loved him more than love itself. More than the maraschino cherry that would sit so temptingly apon her sundae, more than seeing the first star on the velvety midnight sky, more than writing her poetry, underneath the elm tree. She would rather spend a short life loving someone, then living a short life in long, lonely nights. She'd rather love him, let time pass by and result in her death. She wanted to die a happy girl.... a happy girl who died because of cancer. She had, all her life, wished for these words more than anything else. She wanted to make love to someone, not fuck for fun.  
  
"I want to make love to you, Cherrelle," Draco whispered, looking directly into her eyes. He shivered. Her eyes were drawing him in,  
making him.. melt.  
  
Cherrelle looked at him, smiling softly but surely, as she watched his eyes grow soft. The ice was gone, replaced by love, respect, and  
generosity. Something nobody saw in a Malfoy. Cherrelle felt gifted to see this.  
  
She kissed him. Her lips danced lithe kisses down his jawline, before she met his earlobe, on which she sucked into her mouth and nibbled on gently. Her lips then brushed against silky wisps of white-blonde hair before his ear. "Make love to me..." she whispered. No, it wasnt a whisper, it was a moan.  
  
Draco immidiately went hard. He bit his lip gently, getting shivers at the way she moaned so longingly into his ear. It caused him to think... very splendid thoughts. He slid his finger beneath the strap of her top, grinning as he spotted her skin tremble. Softly, he removed the top. He did this slowly, too, kissing the new inches of flat stomach that was exposed as he pulled her shirt up. As soon as it was fully removed, he pulled himself over her, kissing right between her breasts. She tilted her head back, her breasts rising as she arched her back, encouraging him to taste her.  
  
He needed no encouragement. He slid his tounge up one of her breasts, suckling gently on her hard nipples, his other hand grasping  
Cherrelle's other breast, pinching her nipple playfully between his index finger and thumb.  
  
He grew steadily harder as he heard her long, purring moans, her hands running through his hair every minute or so, her body shivering all over, filled to the brim with pleasure, delight.  
  
"Draco... stop... you're gonna make me... ohh... please...!" Cherrelle gasped, as she suddenly felt Draco's fingers slide past her thong and fishnet tights, three fingers plunging into her. She made a girlish sigh as he pumped her hard, and fast, feeding his first movements  
through his long fingers.

He explored her insides, wanting to make her climax as much times as he possibly could. He warily entered another finger. Hearing her soft groans, he could tell she was loving it.  
  
He soon felt her body go slightly rigid, and she came, her legs trembling as he slid his fingers from her very wet opening, his lips  
kissing the insides of her thighs.

With help from one another, they stripped their clothing, with teeth, nails, fingers, hands. It drove Draco crazy when she undid his zipper with her teeth only. He almost came in the soft material of his boxers. But he held it back, tilting his head back.  
  
Now, he lay down beneath her, Cherrelle straddling his hips, his hard-on right before her, ready to be swallowed up into her pussy. But she was a natural tease, taking her time with suckling at his own nipples, biting playfully, getting a stangled groan from Draco.

"That hurt.." he whimpered.  
  
"Sorry, my pretty boy," she teased, laughing softly as she kissed his nipples. "All better..."  
  
Draco laughed. His eyes were still gentle, soft, exploring her body before she positioned herself over him.  
  
"Take me, Draco. Now.." she moaned, her hands intertwined with his, as he shifted his hips.  
  
He thrusted.  
  
She exploded into a gentle fit of fresh moans, her eyes never tearing away from their gaze. She waited until they created their own rythym. He thrust into her, long and gentle, staying put for a moment before pulling back out and thrusting into her again. He loved the way her breasts bounced, when she pushed her body against his.  
  
Cherrelle, on the other hand, never experienced sex this good. It seemed their love for each other made it all different. The way they  
locked eyes every other minute, or when she'd lean over and kiss his beautiful lips.  
  
When her eyes weren't lost in his, they traveled lower, her fingers tracing his pelvis, softly brushing over hardly visible silvery blonde  
pubic hairs. They were there, but if not aqquiring their slight sheen in the moonlight, they were hardly noticeable.  
  
She moaned softly as he quickened the pace, just as she finished fondling his navel, an inny, as hers was, too. His skin, in the  
moonlight, was milkier than usual, their white hue exaggerated by the soft blue light.  
  
She leant forwards once again, Draco arching his back to slide into her, harder. His eyes fixated on hers, the way the light created  
shadows, dancing across her face, the moon reflected in her eyes. He moaned into her mouth, as they kissed, lips locked, tounges snaking against each other slowly, their bodies trembling, shivering with pleasure as they were united as one with every thrust of his hips.  
  
Draco grasped her hand tightly, starting to shift to another rythym. He wanted to climax soon, and he was almost there. He wanted both of them to release at the same time, share the experience.  
  
Cherrelle tightly returned her grip on his hand, leaning back up as she allowed herself to rock into the harder, faster rythym. Her moans soon returned to their heightened tone, heavy and long. Untwining her fingers out of his, she ran her hands along teh muscles of his creamy abdomen, sliding up to his collarbone, she raked her fingernails lightly down, causing Draco to shudder.  
  
He was about to cum... and she felt her body respond, going slightly rigid again. "I love you." he whispered, and they both climaxed at the same time, beneath the moon, cradled into one another.  
  
Cherrelle allowed him to slide out of her, his eyes gentle as she slid beside him. "I love you, too," she grinned, and pulled her naked form close to him, while Draco slid his silky sheets over them to encase them together, legs and arms, hands and fingers, intwined with each other, as he watched her grow silent, her ocean eyes closing slowly, she fell asleep.  
  
Kissing her, he lay his head on the pillow, taking himself into the realm of dreams by listening to her soft breaths of slumber.  
  
Days passed, forming into weeks, forming into months. Cherrelle decided that she would never tell Draco that she had cancer, and that there was a great chance she may not survive if the next operation was a success.  
  
And as she got back to the Slytherin Common Room, she was slumbling slightly, she collapsed into the nearest armchair. Her father knew, her mother knew, her family knew. They only wanted for her happiness. The operation, sadly, wasn't a success. She would die. Nobody knew when, but the doctor estimated a span of a month or so. But she felt like she was dying today.  
  
' She let the tears trickle down her cheeks as she thought of never seeing Draco again. She acheived her goal of giving and receiving love, but now she could not keep it. It was like trying to contain water in open palms. It was impossible. Her life was trickling away just as she sat there, the tears never ceasing to stop.  
  
Until she heard his voice.  
  
"Cherrelle? Are you okay?" Draco's voice started out harsh, but softened when he saw there was no one around to witness his  
affectionate side.  
  
She sat up, looking at him. Draco was confused. Her ocean eyes were tired, skin pale, her voice shallow. What was wrong? He knelt next to her, kissing her hand. Running his hands up and down her legs, he looked up into her eyes. He no longer could drown himself in those brown eyes. They had grown shallow.  
  
Over the weeks, he had done everything to satisfy her. He made love to her when she needed it, either in the comfort of his own bed, or somewhere secretive. He owled her blood-red roses every single day, and he found himself lost without hearing her voice, if she was not there to stable him, he was permenantly a drunken stupor.  
  
They took hot showers together in the Prefect Bathrooms, their bodies lathered with soap, slippery and wet as they groped, touched, kissed, beneath the droplets of steamy water.  
  
For him, life was perfect.  
  
But what about Cherrelle?  
  
She seemed happy... but he couldn't sense what was wrong.  
  
"Cherrelle? Whats wrong.. please, please tell me..." he murmured, tightening his grip on her hand. He wanted to know the truth.  
  
She looked at him, grinned tiredly, but softly, into his gentle, gray eyes. Those eyes had softened only for her, and she appreciated that. She loved him, more than love itself. She was dying for him, and if she wasn't, she would die for him in a second.  
  
"Make love to me." was all she said. She wanted to grasp every moment with him, before her life was snatched away from her, into the greedy hands of God.  
  
"What?" he replied softly. This didn't tell him what was wrong.  
  
"Mak love to me, Draco," she whispered, touching his hand gently. "Please."  
  
Draco looked her over, and nodded solemly.  
  
He took her hand.  
  
They made love in his bed once more, their bodies sweaty and hot, but it was perfect. Cherrelle had 3 bodyrocking orgasmsm, her nails gently digging into his skin as he held her beneath him, climaxing as he looked into her eyes. Those tired, lovely eyes.  
  
They both moaned softly, as they seperated, Draco pulling out.  
  
He kissed her. It was pleasant, passionate, unpracticed.  
  
She pulled away for breath.  
  
"Have you ever made love in the ocean?" she asked.  
  
Draco shook his hand, tucking her braids behind one ear. "No, I haven't."  
  
"Well, lets pretend this is the last time you'll ever see me again. We are at the beach, our bodies partially in the ocean. I have to go away somewhere, and it will be our last time together," she whispered. She saw his eyes widen, his eyes growing slightly cold,sad.

"Just pretend..." she added hopefully, wistfully.  
  
"Okay, we will. I will pretend, for you."  
  
"I love you, Draco. Do you truly love me? If we were of age, would you be with me forever? Would you?" she whispered, words choked. She felt the tears begging to escape.  
  
"I would be with you forever, in a heartbeat." he replied. "Actually, we are going to be together, forever. We'll get married... have kids... live in a lovely Manor. It will be perfect," he murmured into her ear as he pressed himself back inside of her, his hands carressing her face, her neck, her cheeks. He saw a tiny tear trickle down her cheek. He kissed it away.  
  
"Yes, it will be perfect." she whispered. Only she knew that would never happen.  
  
Draco now situationed himself in the ocean scene, his heart pounding furiously. The last time? Well, I must grasp this.  
  
He lowered his head, kissing her lips, then down her jawline, suckling beneath her ear. He pounded her harder, hips meeting with every frantic thrust, and his love was lost in her fresh moans.  
  
His tounge drew a line down her neck, stopping to suckle and kiss a little, before his lips made their way down her her breasts.  
  
Draco's mouth suckled on her hard nipples, hands lightly grazing her skin, tickling her as they mad theyr way up and down her trembling stomach, also keeping his thrusting rythym, grasping her hips briefly as he made love to her.  
  
"I love you, so much." he told her, looking up into her eyes, which for a moment, shifted into those bottomless oceans, the ones Draco had found himself falling in love with.  
  
Her eyes stayed that way as Draco reached his peak, releasing inside of her. Her hands firmly gripped onto him, she didn't want to let go, not now, not ever. It wasn't fair! Life is never fair to her.  
  
"I love you too, baby," she kissed his forehead, and they both sank into the pillows, clutching each other as they both fell asleep.  
  
Things were fine for weeks. But on the last week of the month, Draco was rushing around the castle, his claok billowing behind him as he stode swiftly through all the corridors. Where the hell could Cherrelle possibly be?  
  
He saw her earlier, in her father's classroom. She had caught his eye, smiling rather sadly, waving at him.  
  
And so there is where he went.  
  
Her father was sitting at his desk, dressed in Muggle clothes, his fingers rubbing at his temples. He didn't see Draco stide in, and was  
rather surprised to hear his shaky, furious voice. Draco stuggled to keep it calm.  
  
"Where is she? Professor?" he said, wringing his hands, shifting impatiently on the spot.  
  
Her father turned. "Please, call me Micheal... you're her boyfriend, Draco Malfoy, correct?"  
  
"Yes, I am. Where is she?"  
  
"Shes... didn't she tell you? She sent her last wishes to everyone already."  
  
"What? WHERE IS SHE!?" he couldn't control his anger. When he wasn't told something, he got furious, aggitated.  
  
"Shes at St.Mungos."  
  
"WHY?"  
  
"She has cancer."  
  
"She never told me that.... is she getting it treated? IS SHE ALRIGHT?"  
  
Her father shook his head. His eyes were sad.  
  
"Shes dying."  
  
There was silence. Draco would not cry, not here. Shes dying....  
  
"I'm leaving for the hospital now. You should come, she would die happy if you were there, I know it. You've been so good to her..."  
  
Draco swallowed, but didn't speak. He only nodded, indicating that he wanted to go to St.Mungo's along with Professor Campbell.  
  
They arrived there shortly. Draco grasped her fathers hand as he Apparated to her room.  
  
She was laying in the only bed there, flowers and notes and cards on her beside table. The curtains were drawn, and Professor Campbell pushed Draco forwards.  
  
"Go see her."  
  
Draco stumbled forwards. He was numb. This wasn't possible. This was the girl he wanted to be with forever! How was this bloody fair to him?  
  
He stepped in and drew the curtains again.  
  
Cherrelle lay there, breathing shallow, her chest rising and falling as she slumbered. No, dont sleep... stay awake for me... dont go... Draco thought. The tears were battling against him now, daring him to let them fall.  
  
And they did.  
  
Pearly little tears, escaping from his eyes, splashing on her white bedsheets. "Cherrelle..." he choked.  
  
His upperbody shook, collapsing with sobs.  
  
Cherrelle weakly turned her head. She gave him a soft, sad smile. Her eyes were shallow, dimmed, dark. She was losing her battle to stay alive. Draco was losing his love.  
  
"My baby... you came.." she whispered.  
  
Draco slid next to her on the bed, cradling her. He was still crying, the tears falling all over her, dripping pearls of sorrow sinking into  
her clothes, making them damp.

"I love you!" he said, the sobs overthrowing him. He was breaking down. This was not possible! She couldn't go.  
  
"I love you, too. I'm always here, baby. In a way, I'll never leave.... I will be the soft rainshower on a sunny day, the bumblebee resting on a pretty flower. I will be the first star in the sky. I will be here..." she whispered. Her voice was soft, low, cracking slightly. She  
stretched her pals over his chest. His heartbeat was quick, frantic. "I will be in your heart."  
  
Draco sobbed, clutching onto her. He breathed in her scent. She smelled of honey and cinammon, and slightly like laundry detergent. He smiled softly, as he ran his hands through her braided hair, as he looked longingly into her eyes, her lips. He was afraid to kiss her, afraid he would be taking away her last breaths. She seemed to read his mind.  
  
"Please, you can kiss me."  
  
Draco did, pressing his lips gently against hers, their tounges sliding together, mouths locking. Draco poured his soul into the kiss, his  
firey, passionate love for her. He loved this girl so much. He would never deny it.  
  
And as they pulled away, she held onto him, her strength waning.  
  
"I love you."  
  
"I love you, too."  
  
"I will never forget you, Draco."  
  
"Neither will I. NEVER."  
  
"Just remember, I will always be there."  
  
"Yes, I will remember."  
  
"Please, I must see my father... I am losing my battle for life... I'm going..."  
  
Draco kissed her again. She felt so cold, so unreal.  
  
"Okay."  
  
Her father came forwards, and Draco left.  
  
They were talking, her father was crying. God, that girl seemed to make many people cry. Not on purpose, she was just so... oh god, he couldn't explain.  
  
His heart was in his throat, and he felt like this was a dream. It wasn't.  
  
And as her father came out of the room, he was still crying. His cheeks were shining with tears. Draco shivered. He was scared. Those words were going to haunt him forever.  
  
"Draco, shes gone."

a/n well this is the longest story I have so far I hope you like because I think its crap but I have had complements from my friends about my rough drafts so I think it may be good enough for here well thanx to my cherrie babie ur my inspiration


End file.
